Human Emotion
by FlyingPigMonkey
Summary: "Although her back was to him, Harry would not have been surprised if he was to find her eyes pink from the near constant crying she seemed to be doing these last couple days." OneShot


AN: This was written as a prize to claraowl for winning the Ron's Birthday Challenge. Congratulations!

I do not own Harry Potter, I'm just a fangirl :) enjoy!

* * *

Harry walked into the canvas tent to find Hermione, once again, hunched at the dining table, a large glass snow globe clenched between her hands. Her only movements came every couple minutes in the form of slowly turning the glass sphere over, allowing the white flakes within to swirl before turning it right-side up once more. Although her back was to him, Harry would not have been surprised if he was to find her eyes pink from the near constant crying she seemed to be doing these last couple days. He had yet to actually see her cry, but the soft noises that came from her bunk late at night were unmistakable.

As she turned the snow globe in her hands again, Harry sighed before stepping completely inside and walking over to take the heavy wooden chair across from his depressed friend. They sat in silence for a couple minutes. When it became clear to him that Hermione was going to go another day without speaking to him, Harry made to get up, but her voice forced the wizard to freeze.

"We're never going to see him again, are we?" She asked, her voice horse and crackly from disuse. Her gaze stayed on the globe before her, looking almost as if she had said nothing at all.

Harry slowly sank back into his seat, studying the wood grain of the table top as he searched his mind for a good answer. The only answer that came to him, however, was the most truthful one. "I don't know."

Hermione drew in a heavy breath as she reached a thumb up to wipe the already dried tears from her face, smearing the streaks of her muggle makeup across her cheeks. Since she had expected Ron to return after storming off and disaperating away within a day or two, the witch tried to keep her appearance up so he would not be able to see just how much his absence had incapacitated her. But as the weeks drew on and the time to change locations became way past due, her personal upkeep faded along with her hope. The last bit of her makeup had bleed down her face as her tears fell days ago, but the motivation to clean herself had become nonexistent, leaving her hair in tangles and dried makeup mixed with tears caked upon her soft skin. She continued to breathe heavily, closing her eyes before opening them again and looking at Harry for the first time in days. "It's time move. Start packing the tent." The witch set the globe on the table before placing her weight on her arms, pulling herself into a standing position as Harry looked on in confusion.

"Wait. What about Ron? He won't be able to find us if we leave."

She took a couple shaky steps over to her friend before Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. "If he was going to come back, he would have by now. And we've stayed at this location for too long. It's not safe here. Now Harry, please," she pleaded, "start packing up the tent while I clean myself up in the creek. Please."

Harry kept his eyes level with hers, searching for any trace of the doubt she seemed to have only moments before. Failing to find it, the wizard nodded slowly before grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently. She smiled slightly in return before letting him go and exiting the tent; Harry raised his wand and began tidying up.

* * *

_Hermione sat up fully, stretching her sore back before leaning back over the Arithmancy homework the fourth year had spread out over the worn oak table before her. The library had quickly become her favorite place to study once she realized how much Harry and Ron hated the dusty chamber. This small fact was extremely useful during those times where she found herself so upset at one or the other that she could not handle even looking at them; as the years went by, Hermione felt her anger was coming quicker and sometimes even needlessly. This time, however, she knew she was in the right after that little stunt Ron pulled at the Yule Ball the week before. With her careful planning, the witch had been able to avoid being in the same room as him outside of the few classes they shared. _What an ass, _she thought to herself for the ninth time in a half hour._

_As she shifted her focus back to the homework problem in front of her, a small creek in the floor boards behind her echoed off the silent bookshelves around her, causing her to jump, almost falling out of her chair. Hermione whirled around to find the infuriating red head standing with his hands behind his back, his sad eyes meeting hers. Ron remained quiet as she caught her breath, watching as her hand found itself on her chest as if it was trying to steady her after a long race. She shot a glare at her friend before turning back around, saying, "Go away Ron."Working for several minutes more with no more noise, however, Hermione realized he would not cower away so easily this time. Pausing in her writing, not bothering to look up from her parchment, she said coldly, "Did you want something?"_

_Taking a couple shaky steps toward her, Ron moved himself to stand next to the table and placed a square package in front of the witch. "I'm sorry," was all he muttered before turning away and leaving the library._

_Hermione looked up and studied the package for several minutes, debating with herself on if she should open it or throw it out the nearby window. _Well, _she thought to herself, _I can always throw it out after I open it. _Setting down her quill, she pulled the gift to her and ripped into the brown paper wrapping. Opening the box, she pulled out a rather large glass muggle snow globe, complete with a wooded winter scene and some reindeer. She slowly turned it upside down, allowing the snow to flood to the top of the dome before quickly turning it back and watching as it fluttered about like a whirlwind._

_Later that night, instead of tossing it out a window to smash upon the cliff rocks below, the young witch placed it on her bedside table, watching the snow flurries until she fell off to sleep._


End file.
